


The Bodyguard

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Background Meldrew, Bisexual Phil Coulson, Comfort Food, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Sitting, First Kiss, Grilled Cheese, Mentions of Holden Radcliffe, Mentions of Jiaying, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Phil Coulson, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Sokovia Accords, Watchdogs (Agents of SHIELD)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:45:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: AU (No SHIELD): Judge Phil Coulson's Inhuman Bodyguard, Daisy Johnson, saves his life.





	The Bodyguard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts), [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts), [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts), [BrilliantlyHorrid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/gifts).



> From an [Daily AU](http://dailyau.tumblr.com/post/160617222234/i-understand-that-youre-my-bodyguard-but-that) tumblr prompt. 
> 
> I saw this prompt and literally couldn't not write it.

Even after six months, Judge Phil Coulson finds it strange to be shadowed constantly by a young woman who's been assigned to protect him: the idea that he needs a bodyguard these days simply because he dares to believe that Inhumans should have the same rights as humans is constantly baffling.

Equally as perplexing is the fact that his bodyguard is (a) a young woman (he'd been expecting a man, and he hoped it wasn't a misogynistic assumption on his part), and (b) apparently the Inhuman equivalent of royalty. Her name is Daisy Johnson, although she also has an Inhuman codename and he's been given to understand that her codename, 'Quake', is a reference to her Inhuman abilities, although he's yet to see them demonstrated (to his secret disappointment). Her mother, Jiaying, runs the Inhuman sanctuary called 'Afterlife' which cannot be reached except in the company of a slightly older man whose name is Gordon, who teleports people to and from Afterlife – but only with the permission of Jiaying. Daisy had explained all this to him the first day that she'd come to work with him so that he'd know what to expect if ever Jiaying wished to have a meeting with him.

He's currently meeting with Melinda May at the local park – she runs his conventional court security, and they'd normally meet in his office, but as it's her daughter's birthday and she's taken the day off so that she and her husband, Dr Andrew Garner, can spend the day with Katy. He'd arranged to stop by the park to pass on his schedule for the following week, and to give Melinda a gift for Katy, who's a scarily bright child of four.

He's just handed over the gaily wrapped gift when Daisy makes a noise behind him – a cut-short exclamation, he thinks – and then he's flat on his back on the grass, winded and wondering why he hadn't previously noticed that his bodyguard is a beautiful young woman – why does he only notice when she has his body pinned beneath hers on the grass. 

"What the hell was that for?" he demands once he's recovered enough breath to speak. "Let me up this instant, Johnson." She shakes her head, her body still firmly pressing him to the grass, and he hopes like hell she isn't aware that he's growing aroused at having her atop him.

"Let me up," he repeats brusquely in an attempt to cover his embarrassment, and she glances around, before she pushes herself to her feet, then offers him a hand, and he's a bit startled by how easily she pulls him up from the grass given the difference in their respective body masses. She stoops to the grass and picks something up, which he belatedly recognises as a Frisbee.

"Why on earth did you overreact like that, Johnson?" he asks, brushing futilely at the grass stains on his light grey suit. "It's a Frisbee, not a nuclear bomb."

"One can never be too careful, sir," she says, her tone stiff and formal. She flicks him a quick up-and-down glance, and he feels his face heating up as he's sure that she must be aware of his arousal.

"Try to be a little less precipitate next time," he chides.

"Next time it might not be a Frisbee," she says flatly.

He has to concede that she's correct but he's still embarrassed by his body's reaction to hers. "I need to get to the office," he says, and makes his farewell to Melinda, who's been watching the whole thing go down with her usual inscrutable expression, although he thinks he detects amusement in her non-expression.

The drive to his office passes in silence, and Coulson is very relieved to reach the sanctuary of his workspace without further incident or conversation: he's a little ashamed of his over-reaction to his bodyguard's actions – she's got astonishingly fast reflexes, and he had been secretly very impressed with how quickly she'd responded to what she'd seen as a threat. He realises that he now feels much safer with her.

He heads into his office, requesting that his PA bring him a cup of coffee in ten minutes – he wants to change out of his grass stained suit as that needs to go to the dry cleaner as soon as possible. He can't help thinking it's just as well he keeps a couple of spare suits and button-down shirts at his office.

Once he's changed he settles behind his desk and a moment later Miss Simmons brings in his coffee and the day's mail. Johnson comes in as Simmons is going back out and takes the suit carrier from the back of the door.

"I'll get this to the dry cleaner's, sir," she says. 

"You don't need to do that," he tells her, frowning. "You're my bodyguard, not – "

The rest of his sentence gets cut off when she shouts "Get down" and he obeys the absoluteness of her voice as a blast of air passes over him just as he ducks down behind his desk; at the same time a gunshot rings out and he hears glass breaking. He's starting to get back out from under the desk as Johnson leaps through the window with a curt "Stay where you are, sir", and then she's gone. He hears the office door open and has a moment of blind panic as he wonders if the assassin in the garden was a bluff, then he hears a familiar voice calling, "Sir? Sir? Are you all right?"

A moment later Antoine Triplett, Melinda's deputy chief of security, appears on hands and knees around the corner of his desk, and his eyes are wide with concern. "Judge Coulson?"

Coulson realises he hasn't answered Trip, and he inhales hard, then exhales softly. "I'm okay, I think," he says – he's got a cut on the back of his left hand from the flying glass, and he thinks he might be in shock, but he's not really injured. 

There's a noise at the broken window and the two men look up to see Johnson outside. "He's contained," she tells them, and Coulson nods, then rolls out from under the desk and gets carefully to his feet.

"You'd better call Security – " he begins, and she shakes her head. 

"They already know," she tells him. "They'll assess the workmen coming in to fix your window – make sure they're clean. And they've taken the would-be assassin into custody." 

Coulson nods, then steps over to his fallen chair and picks it up before dropping into it, his legs suddenly weak. "What did you do?" he asks Johnson, and she frowns at him. "You did something to the assassin or the window before you chased after him."

To his surprise her cheeks colour slightly. "I used my powers on him, sir."

"But you didn't cause an earthquake," Trip says, and Coulson's startled by the younger man's words, wondering if _he_ has seen Johnson's 'Quake' powers before.

"No," she says. "That would've been overkill – not to mention too risky. I might've damaged the building's infrastructure."

"So what did you do?" persists Trip.

"I can vibrate things, as well as causing earthquakes. I vibrated both the glass out of the window and the air between him and the Judge, which threw his aim off sufficiently to ensure he couldn't hit the Judge."

"That's amazing!" Trip says, his sincerity obvious.

She mutters "Thanks," then turns her attention back to Coulson. "I think you should consider moving to an inner office, sir," she says. 

"You mean one without any windows," Coulson says flatly.

"Yes sir."

"I'll discuss it with Melinda when she's back on duty tomorrow."

Johnson looks as if she'd like to argue, but she doesn't. "You should at least move into another office temporarily until this window is fixed."

He knows he can't really argue with that, so he nods, and half turns towards Trip as she vaults over the edge of the window and lands lightly back inside the office. "You're bleeding," he exclaims, only now noticing there's a rent in the right sleeve of the sleek, form-fitting black jacket she wears, and blood oozing from a gash in her arm.

"So are you," she points out, nodding at the back of his left hand. 

"Oh yes," he says vaguely. 

She catches hold of his left elbow and steers him across the office towards his ensuite bathroom, then guides him to sit on the closed lid of the toilet. "Are you in – "

"Love?" he asks dreamily. "I think I might be."

She frowns down at him, and he realises just what he's said, and feels his entire face, especially his ears, burn. "Shock," he says quickly. "I'm definitely in shock. Someone just tried to kill me."

"I noticed," she says in a dry tone, but there's something in her eyes – some emotion he can't quite identify because it's too fleeting. She pulls the first aid kit from the bathroom cabinet and takes out a packet of antiseptic wipes, cleaning the blood from the back of his hand. It's not a very bad cut, but she nevertheless applies a sterile dressing to it. 

"Does it hurt much?" she asks, her tone unusually gentle.

He shakes his head and thinks, _Not as much as my heart._ It hurts to realise he's fallen in love with this competent, capable, and frankly amazing young woman – a woman who's young enough to be his daughter, and is possibly Inhuman royalty, and is definitely off-limits since he's never believed in dating his staff. (He's been secretly nursing a serious crush on Trip for the past year.) 

Johnson's easing her injured arm out of her jacket, and he gets to his feet to assist her, but he almost knocks her off her feet when a dizzy spell hits him.

"God, sorry," he mutters, flushing with embarrassment all over again. She grabs his shoulders and pushes him, fairly gently, back down onto the toilet lid. 

"You're probably suffering from an adrenaline crash," she tells him, "if not actual shock, so I suggest you stay where you are for the time being."

"That might be the best idea, Daisy," he says, then wonders why she's looking at him like that, until his ears catch up with his words, and realises he's never called her by her first name before – he's always called her 'Johnson'. "Maybe you should just shoot me." He's startled when his pained mumble elicits a soft ripple of laughter from his bodyguard.

"That'd rather defeat the object, wouldn't it?" she asks, her tone definitely teasing, to his immense relief.

"I suppose it would rather," he agrees.

She holds out a pack of Steri Strips and another of sterile dressings, and he realises she needs his help to fix the gash in her arm which she's already cleaned while he's been flailing about mentally and emotionally. He has to apply several strips to close the wound, then two dressings to cover it, and he's very relieved to notice his hands remain fairly steady throughout.

She's peering at him closely as he scrunches up the outer wrappings from the dressing, and her tone is gentle again as she says, "Look, perhaps you'd better work from home today."

He frowns up at her. "Why?"

"I'm not convinced there won't be another attempt to get you," she says patiently. "I'm fairly sure the Frisbee thing in the park was a feint – an attempt to get me to relax my guard. You know, the whole humorous over-reaction to a false alarm."

"You didn't, though," he points out.

"I wouldn't be much use to you as a bodyguard if I relaxed my guard even for a second."

He nods. "Maybe it would be better if I worked remotely today," he says. 

"Good. I have to go and see Jiaying. But don't worry, you won't be left unguarded. I'll be leaving you in the capable hands of Elena and Joey, two of my fellow Inhumans, and they'll ensure you stay safe until I get back."

"Okay," he says quietly. He swallows, determined not to tell her that he doesn't want her to leave him alone with strangers. He's surprised when her hand cups his chin and tilts his head up.

"Hey, you'll be safe with Joey and Elena," she says, and he wonders if she's telepathic as well as capable of earthquakes. Nothing would surprise him, he feels. "C'mon, sir, you're in shock." She helps him up from the toilet lid, then guides him out into his office. She requests Trip to notify Elena and Joey to meet them at the Judge's home, and he nods, then pulls out his cell as he moves aside. She then turns to Simmons.

"Jemma, I'm taking the Judge back home – he'll be working there remotely for the rest of today, and possibly tomorrow as well. Can you please contact those with whom he's due to meet today and arrange for either a video conference or a meeting at a later date?" 

"On it," Simmons says.

"Oh , and Jemma – can you get the Judge's suit to the dry cleaner and ask them to do their best to get the grass stains off, please?"

"Sure, Daisy!"

"Thanks." She turns her attention back to Coulson. "Is there anything you need, sir? Files for example?" She gestures at the stack on his desk.

"I – uh – " He's starting to feel dazed by the events of the morning, and she must realise that because she turns back to Trip as he approaches to confirm that Joey and Elena are on their way to the Judge's residence. 

"Is Dr Morse around?" 

"Yeah, I saw her earlier this morning."

"Ask her to step up to the Judge's office, please, Antoine."

He nods and puts through another call, and Coulson realises that she's pulled his chair nearer. She guides him to sit in it, then crouches in front of him, his hands clasped in hers. "You're in shock, Phil," she says quietly, and he gives her a crooked smile.

"I am," he agrees. "You just called me 'Phil'."

She rolls her eyes, but he hears a huff of laughter as well. "Okay, sir," she says, her tone more teasing now. "I think Bobbi should give you a mild sedative to help you through the shock, and you should rest until after lunch. I'll be back from Afterlife by lunchtime anyway."

"Why are you going to see your mother?" he asks – he's been curious about that since she mentioned it.

"To talk to her about this situation," she says, giving him a look that says it ought to be obvious. "Someone just made a serious attempt to assassinate you. Jiaying will not be happy about that."

"I can't say I'm all that happy about it myself," he replies, and she chuckles briefly.

"You'd be weird if you were," she points out. She gets to her feet as Dr Morse comes in, a doctor's bag in her right hand, and Johnson – Daisy, he thinks treacherously – consults briefly with the older woman, then steps back.

"How are you feeling, sir?" asks Dr Morse as she crouches down beside his chair and opens her bag.

"Pathetic," he says, a little tartly. 

"I don't see why," responds Dr Morse. "From what I hear, you haven't exactly had a quiet morning."

"No," he agrees, the tartness gone again as he recalls the combination of shock and fear he'd felt when he'd realised someone was trying to kill him.

"Well, this'll help." She takes out a small phial of liquid and a syringe, and proceeds to give him a shot. "It's a very mild sedative. It'll make you feel less tense and jumpy, and even sleepy. The effects will wear off in a couple of hours, but it wouldn't hurt for you to get some sleep in the meantime."

"I'm not a child," he says, snaps if he's honest.

"No, sir, you're not," answers Johnson as Dr Morse gets to her feet. "You're a senior Judge, and that means you're smart enough to know that you should give yourself some time since someone tried to kill you today."

He sighs. "I apologise, Dr Morse," he says, smiling ruefully up at her.

She pats his shoulder. "Apology accepted," she says cheerfully. "Though it's not needed. If you need anything else, call me, and I'll come out to your house straight away."

"Thank you." She nods, then strides out, and he looks up at Daisy Johnson. "I owe you an apology, too," he says.

She shakes her head. "No, you don't. C'mon, let's get you home."

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

Twenty minutes later, she ushers him into his home, and he stops dead when he sees the two people waiting in his entrance hall: a young Latina woman in her late 20s, with long dark hair that's pulled back in a ponytail and dark eyes, and a taller young Latino man, whom he judges to be 30: he's got short dark hair and a neat beard. They both wear jackets and pants in a similar style to Johnson's, which intrigues him, and they look very serious.

"This is Elena and Joey," Johnson tells him. "Joey, Elena, this is Judge Phil Coulson, the man responsible for spearheading the campaign to do away with the Sokovia Accords."

The three of them shake hands, then Johnson says, "I want you two to maintain a constant patrol of the perimeter for the next few hours. I have to go and see Jiaying, so I'm entrusting the Judge's safety to you two."

"Don't worry," Elena says, "the Judge will be in safe hands."

Johnson nods. "I know." The pair disappear back through the front door, and she guides Coulson down the hallway and into the master bedroom. He's feeling very loose and relaxed now, and realises he could quite easily sleep.

"C'mon sir, let's get you to bed."

"I'd like you to take me to bed," he says unguardedly, then blushes as he realises he's said that aloud.

She smirks, which startles him – he's never seen her smirk before. "I know," she says in a light tone. "I can tell."

"How?" he asks curiously. "Are you telepathic as well?"

She chuckles as she guides him to sit on the side of the bed and kneels at his feet to get his shoes and socks off. "Nope, but my powers do mean I can read people's moods – strong emotions change a person's vibrations."

"Vibrations?" he repeats, confused.

"Everything in this world, whether animate or inanimate, gives off vibrations," she tells him. "Part of my Inhuman abilities is to be able to read vibrations. For example, if you blindfolded me and put me in a strange place – a maze, say – I could get myself out without any difficulty by using my powers – kinda like the way a dolphin uses sonar."

"But how does that lead to reading moods?"

"Like I said, strong emotions – anger, fear, desire, etc – all change your vibrations, and I can read those changes. With people I know well I can recognise the specific moods."

"And you know me well?" he asks.

She smirks again. "I've been living with you for the last six months, Phil – I know your vibrations intimately."

He feels a flush of heat in his face and his groin at her words, and then is embarrassed by his body's betrayal. But his discomfiture doesn't last for long because she clasps his chin as she had earlier and a moment later her mouth is on his. The kiss is hot and hungry, yet very carefully controlled – and he's surprised that he is in any condition to notice that latter fact because his previously simmering desire flares up like someone poured gasoline on a fire. Heat suffuses his body again, and his cock reacts, stiffening rapidly until he feels like it will burst from the confines of his pants.

He doesn't remember lying down, but when she pulls her mouth from his, he's flat on his back on the bed, and she's pinning his body down, just as she had a couple of hours ago when that Frisbee had flown at him. 

"Daisy," he groans desperately.

She nips at his bottom lip, then laves the spot with her tongue. "Phil," she whispers. "We can't do this now. But later, if you still want to?"

"I want," he mutters. "I want you so much. _Fuck._ "

"Phil, are you ashamed of finding me desirable?"

"No, no, no – of course not," he says quickly. She raises an eyebrow, and he blushes again. "A bit. It's sleazy. I'm old enough to be your father."

"Mmm, but my mom is several hundred years older than my dad."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So I don't really care about the 22 year age gap between us – if you can live with it, I can."

"I can," he says, and she raises a quizzical eyebrow at him.

"I sense a but."

"I always swore I'd never be the sort of man to sleep with his staff," he tells her.

"Is that why you've never done anything about your obvious crush on Antoine?"

He gapes at her, then closes his eyes, thoroughly embarrassed. "Oh god," he groans. "I thought that was a secret." 

She chuckles, her whole body shaking atop his and he feels his ebbing arousal flare up again. "Don't worry, I don't think anyone else has noticed – not even Antoine."

"How come you don't call him Trip, like everyone else?" he asks curiously.

She shrugs. "I like Antoine." She leans down and laps at his Adam's apple, then nips at his chin. "It's going to be up to you to decide whether or not you want a sexual relationship with me," she tells him. "I can promise you it won't affect my ability to do my job if we do, but if you decide that it doesn't feel right, I'm not going to think any worse of you – and we'll never discuss it again." She lifts her body off his, and he tries not to whine at the loss of contact.

"I'll be back as quick as I can. Try to get some sleep in the meantime – you'll feel better for it."

He nods, and she makes a quick gesture of salute, then goes out, and he sits up, then pulls off his clothes, setting them on the chair near his bed, then he lies down again. He's still half-hard, and he can't help himself – he's been too thoroughly aroused today – he lies on his side with his back to the door and begins stroking his cock until he's fully hard again, then he rolls onto his back and grabs a handful of tissues ready to clean himself up once he's come.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

When Daisy returns he's just woken up. There's a tap on his door, and she calls out to let him know it's her.

"Come in," he calls back forgetting, for the moment, that he's naked. She comes through the door, then quickly closes it behind her, before circling the end of his bed.

"Nice dreams?" she asks in a low, teasing voice as he registers the fact that he's hard. 

"Very," he agrees, blushing a little.

She sits on the side of the bed and curls her right hand around his knee, her fingers mere inches from his rampant erection. "Was I in them?"

"Yes." His breath begins to grow ragged as she slides her hand up his thigh, her fingernails trailing a tingling path across his skin. "You and Trip," he adds.

She smiles at that admission. "Would you like to have us both?" she asks, but her expression says she already knows the answer to her question.

"Yes." He gasps as she brushes her index against his stiff prick. She slides her fingertip down to the base, then over his balls, and he swears his cock's getting harder at her touch, feather-light though it is. "Did you make a decision, then, Phil?" He can feel the tip of her finger close by his asshole.

"Yes," he repeats again. "Please, Daisy."

She gives him a blindingly bright smile, then leans down and kisses him, and he moans into her mouth as her finger circles the pucker of his ass. He whines when she withdraws her finger to curl her hand around his swollen shaft, then he feels her rubbing her index across the tip of his cock, gathering the precum that's leaking copiously from it. He moans very loudly, then pulls his mouth from hers when she slips the tip of her finger into him. His hips jerk involuntarily, and she smiles at him – not mocking, but clearly satisfied at the fact that he's enjoying her touches.

"Daisy," he groans, "please."

"Please what, Phil?" she asks. "Do you want me to finger you until you spill on your belly and chest? Or – "

"Ride me, please," he gasps.

She nods, then uncurls her hand, and sets a pack of condoms on the nightstand, and he blushes when he sees she's brought extra large. He watches avidly as she slips off the bed, then rapidly sheds her clothes. She's even more gorgeous than he'd thought when she was lying on top of him in the park this morning, and he feels a bit in awe of the idea that she wants to have sex with him.

His cock throbs in her hand as she rolls a condom down his length, then she climbs back onto the bed and straddles his thighs. "Ready?" He nods, too eager for words, but he does moan when she guides him into her – she's already wet, and her sex feels like a hot, well-fitting sheath as he slides into it. She moans too, and he realises that he's stretching her as he fills her, and he'd worry it was too much but the look on her face keeps him silent.

"Fuck, Phil," she says softly, her tone almost reverent. "You feel so good."

"You too," he says hoarsely.

She lies down on top of him yet again, and begins kissing him as she rocks her hips gently backwards and forwards. Her nipples are hard little nubs that graze through his chest hair as she slides back and forth over him.

"You can touch me, Phil," she tells him, sounding amused, and he realises with a jolt that his hands are pressed flat against the bedding on either side of his body.

"Daisy," he mutters, then curls his hands over her hips. He begins to slide his hands up and down her back as she moves over him, and he can already feel his balls beginning to tighten. He cups her ass, squeezing her flesh, before he feels her tightening her walls around his dick, and then she's coming hard, gasping his name as he finds himself thrusting his hips so she's no longer doing all the work. 

She comes a second time as he continues to move beneath her, and then he wraps his arms around her and rolls them over, and fucks her deeply, chasing his own release. She eggs him on, and as she climaxes a third time, his own orgasm hits him too, his cock pulsing hard inside her.

"Fuck," he gasps, and rolls off her so he doesn't crush her.

"Yeah," she says, sounding breathless. "We definitely did."

He chuckles weakly, and she rolls onto her side, smirking at him as she runs her fingers down his breastbone. 

"How'd you feel now?" she asks.

"Like I just had sex with a beautiful young woman," he quips, and she chuckles this time.

"But more generally?" she asks.

"I'm okay," he says, "and that's not just 'cos my system's full of endorphins right now."

"Good. Shall we grab a shower and I'll fill you in on my conversation with Jiaying?"

"Okay." He finds it hard to concentrate fully, though, when he and Daisy are in the shower together, particularly when she is rubbing shower gel across his body. She seems amused, rather than annoyed by his distracted state, and doesn't object when he slips two fingers into her and begins kissing her as he works her to another climax.

Once they're out of the shower and towelling off, however, she becomes all business – which he found embarrassingly arousing, although it's too soon for him to get hard again. 

"There's an Inhuman at Afterlife named Veritus who's a truth-seeker – he can tell, telepathically, whether or not someone's lying. Jiaying suggested he might be of use in interrogating the would-be assassin we captured today. The only thing is, Veritus is one of those Inhumans who looks a lot less human than me."

"How?" asks Coulson curiously, trying not to ogle as Daisy pulls on a tank (without bothering with a bra, still), then panties.

"Well he's blue and bald, and has a lot of tentacles and antennae sprouting from the top of his head." She winces at the description, and he mentally winces in sympathy. "Gordon could teleport him into a secure room at the local PD, and then we could have the assassin brought in to answer questions. I'd suggest having the assassin in an interrogation room and Veritus in an adjoining room."

"He doesn't need to touch someone to read whether or not they're telling the truth?" Coulson asks.

She shakes her head. "Just so long as he's within a few feet of a person, he can read them."

"All right. I'll talk to Chief Hill and get her to set it up. You'd better make a list of questions you – or your mother – wants asked." She nods, and he asks, "Does your mother suspect a wider plot?"

Daisy snorts. "Jiaying always suspects a wider plot," she says. "But when you've lived as long as she has, and seen as many uprisings against Inhumans as she has, then paranoia's kinda inevitable."

He nods. "Let's go and get some lunch," he suggests once they're both dressed.

"Yeah, I believe I could eat – fucking always makes me hungry."

He blushes, and she laughs. "What?" he asks.

"I love the fact that you blush so easily. Not many men your age do."

"It's embarrassing," he says with a bit of a growl.

"It's endearing," she argues, and slings her arms loosely around his neck before kissing him, and he tugs her closer until her body's pressed tightly against his. "I can't wait to fuck you again, Phil."

He groans. "Daisy. I'll never be able to concentrate to get any work done if you make remarks like that."

She smirks, then pulls away, allowing the back of her right hand to brush against his semi-hard cock. He can't believe he's getting hard again so soon – at his age, it tends to take hours, not 45 minutes.

"Don't worry, Phil, I'll be as professional as ever once we're out there, I promise."

He nods, believing her, then opens his door and ushers her out into the hallway. Once in the kitchen he prepares lunch, deciding to introduce her to his family's secret recipe grilled cheese sandwich: it's something he only tends to make for lovers to whom he feels especially close.

As he makes their sandwiches they discuss the questions the local PD should ask the captured assassin, Daisy making a list on her tablet.

"Are you okay with Gordon coming here?" she asks, and he raises an eyebrow as he sets the grilled cheeses sandwiches down on the table, then turns to fetch the bowl of salad he prepared to go with them.

"Does he need to come here?" Coulson asks curiously.

"Well, it'd be easier if he does – Jiaying wants me to liase with the authorities since I'm already an officially recognised liaison between Inhumans and non-Inhumans. If Gordon brings Veritus here and collects me, he can then take both of us Inhumans to the police department – I'm assuming that Chief Hill would prefer not to have blue, be-tentacled alien-looking guys taking public transpo around the city."

He winces. "She probably would," he agrees. Maria Hill is a decent sort – far better than Chief John Garrett when it comes to dealing with Inhumans and other powered people, but he cannot imagine she'd be overjoyed at the prospect of this Veritus parading the streets. "Yes, Gordon can come here to collect you – where did he collect you from earlier?"

"Your back garden," she says, her attention clearly on the grilled cheese sandwich from which she's just taken a bite. "This is amazing!"

He smirks, and she raises her eyebrows, then drags her tongue slowly along her lower lip to capture a little bit of cheese, and he flushes as he feels his cock stir again. "Daisy," he protests.

She chuckles. "Sorry, Phil. That was definitely not professional of me."

"But very sexy," he admits.

That makes her smirk. "What's in this grilled cheese?"

"Secret recipe," he tells her with a little smug grin. "Do not ask, I will not disclose."

Her smirk widens into a grin. "I bet I could make you 'disclose'," she says suggestively, and he blushes again.

"Okay, no more flirting," he says decisively, and she chuckles, then draws a cross over her heart. 

"I promise."

They eat their lunch in a companionable silence, and while Coulson's arousal is slow to abate, he forces himself not to dwell on just how Daisy had looked earlier, naked and coming hard as they'd fucked. _Be professional,_ he reminds himself sternly.

After lunch he calls Maria Hill and sets up the interrogation that Jiaying has proposed, obtaining the Chief's willing cooperation in accommodating the Inhuman named Veritus and Daisy herself.

"Are you all right, Phil?" Hill asks once they've concluded their discussions.

"Recovering rapidly from my shock," he tells her, not telling her that Daisy has helped considerably in that.

"I'm glad to hear it." He smiles at the fond tone in her voice – he and Melinda May and Maria Hill had all been at university together, and he counts himself fortunate to have remained good friends with them both.

"I'll get Daisy to call you and let you know when they're going to arrive," he tells her.

"Do. And stay safe, Phil."

"That's the plan," he assures her, then ends the call. 

He looks across his desk at Daisy. "She'll have everything ready within half an hour," he tells her.

"Then I'll call Gordon in half an hour," she tells him.

He nods. "Chief Hill also suggested that you might want to make your own recording of the interview."

"I'd planned to anyway," she says, and he feels a surge of admiration for her. 

"You're very good at this," he observes.

She chuckles. "I did a lot of research work online," she says, and he's surprised to hear that, then wonders why he's surprised. "Once mom agreed that you should have an Inhuman bodyguard after we heard about the death threats you'd received as a consequence of your stand against the Sokovia Accords, I spent some time talking with actual bodyguards, and I took some courses too before I volunteered."

"You volunteered?" he asks, very surprised – he'd never known that before. "Why?"

"Why d'you think?" she asks, seeming equally surprised by his question. "You were the first, and at that time, the only senior judicial figure who was standing up and saying that Inhuman rights mattered as much as human rights." She shakes her head. "I was the one who proposed to Jiaying that we should assign you an Inhuman bodyguard, then told her that I wanted the job. She wasn't very pleased – she has great plans for her daughter, and sending her out among hostile humans to protect one of those humans – however well-meaning he might be – wasn't a part of those plans. She's been grooming me to take over running Afterlife since I was 15."

"And you don't want to?" he guesses.

"Oh, I don't mind taking over – in time – but I was determined that Inhumans shouldn't cower behind the protections of Afterlife forever – that doesn't do anything to convince humans that we're 'the same as them but with something extra'," she says, quoting a line in his speech from 6 months ago when he'd first taken his stand against anti-Inhuman sentiment. 

He hopes he's not blushing, although it's hard not to given the admiring looks she's giving him. "How did you persuade your mom to agree?"

She shakes her head. "I didn't. There's a Seer in Afterlife, a young woman named Raina, who had a vision – the details of which haven't been disclosed to me – but apparently those details were enough to convince Jiaying to agree to me becoming your bodyguard."

"I'm very glad you did," he says sincerely. 

"Even though I got grass stains on your favourite suit?" she asks in a teasing tone.

He definitely blushes this time as he recalls how aroused he'd been by her lying on top of him, and she smirks at him. "Professional, professional," he mutters, and she leans in and nuzzles the side of his neck. 

"I'm definitely gonna be very unprofessional with you later," she tells him, and he feels his cock twitch and throb.

"Daisy," he groans.

She kisses him, her fingers curled loosely around the bulge of his erection. "I'm gonna call Gordon," she tells him. "Joey and Elena are still on duty, so you'll be safe until I get back."

"Okay," he says, his voice low and breathy with his arousal. He swallows. "You'd better go before I forget that you promised to be professional."

She smirks, as if she's enjoying seeing him in this state – and he supposes he can't blame her: it must be nice to know you can reduce a grown man to a quivering mass of _want_ at the merest touch.

She goes out into the hallway and he watches from the kitchen doorway as she calls out for Gordon, and a flare of blue light appears. There are two people in the flare of light, and once it dissolves he notices one is a man older than Daisy, who has a blank expanse of smooth skin where his eyes should be, while the other is man-shaped, but blue-skinned, bald, and, as Daisy had mentioned, has tentacles and antennae on the top of his head.

"See you later," she calls, and he waves, then the blue light swirls again leaving his hall empty. He sighs, then takes himself into his office to catch up on the emails and paperwork awaiting him after his very distracting morning.

DJ-PC-DJ-PC-DJ

It's late afternoon and the light's beginning to go when a swirl of blue light in the corner of his office makes Coulson look up in startlement to see his bodyguard striding towards his desk, a grim look on her face.

He sits back in his chair, mentally girding his loins, before asking, "It's not good news, I assume?"

"No," Daisy says, and circles his desk to reach across him in order to plug a thumb drive into his laptop. He can't help reaching up and running the palm of his hand down her spine, hoping to comfort her. 

"What is it?" he asks softly.

"See for yourself," she answers, and clicks on something to bring up a video. 

He realises it's the interrogation of the would-be assassin, and he's startled when he sees the man's face. "Is that a mask?" he asks doubtfully.

"No, that's been tattooed onto his face," she answers, and he can't help shivering in response: the man who'd tried to kill him this morning has a snarling dog's face tattooed onto his skin. Daisy straightens up and clasps his shoulder, and he watches and listens as Chief Hill herself interrogates the man, who seems only too happy to boast of belonging to a new group of anti-Inhuman "defenders" which calls itself The Watchdogs. He boasts, too, of their plan to eliminate the 'freaks' who call themselves Inhumans, as well as any purely human allies of the Inhumans. 

"We'll get that son-of-a-bitch Judge next time," snarls the man. "And his bodyguard. That filthy creature who calls herself Quake will be quaking in her shoes and pissing herself in terror when we grab her."

"She took you down quickly and easily enough this morning," the Chief observes in an almost-neutral tone. "What makes you so sure she won't stop you the next time?"

The Watchdog leers. "There's ways of weakening them unnatural freaks," he says in a snarling tone, evidently determined to maintain the 'dog' illusion.

"Oh yes?" Maria sounds positively bored, he thinks, admiring her tactics.

The man taps the side of his nose. "Got a really bright scientist on our payroll," he tells her with obvious relish. "He'll fix her, and everyone else like her."

"Really?"

The man nods enthusiastically. "Holden'll fix 'em all, you'll see."

"Holden?" Coulson asks Daisy as she shuts down the recording.

"I believe Spike – " She conveys her disdain for the individual with an eloquent twist of her lips – "to be referring to a Dr Holden Radcliffe. He's reputedly brilliant, but completely lacking in any sense of morality." She straightens up and rubs the back of her neck, and he gets to his feet.

"You look pretty exhausted," he observes. 

"Yeah. Listening to that specimen trashing my people was very tiring. And he's probably not even the worst of these 'Watchdogs'. He went on at some length about 'unnatural freaks', 'dangerously uncontrolled weirdoes', etc. I was relieved when Chief Hill finally had him sent out. After that I had a lengthy conversation with Chief Hill, the Governor, and the local FBI chief about what more, if anything, can or should be done to protect Inhumans."

"I trust they didn't say nothing more could be done," Coulson says, feeling a surge of anger at the thought that no one would do anything.

Daisy smiles at him, then pushes up onto her tiptoes, and with the palm of her hand flat over his heart, she gives him a quick kiss. "I knew that'd be your attitude," she says. "And no, they didn't say nothing more could be done – but the mills of bureaucracy grind exceeding slow, as you know."

"Yes," he says, sighing heavily.

"They're going to discuss the matter at higher levels, but the Governor said he thought that a taskforce would be formed." She shakes her head. "I've no idea what good that'll do."

He wraps both arms around her and she reciprocates. "I'll talk to the Governor tomorrow," he promises, "and the Senator. In the meantime, do you want something to eat?"

She shakes her head. "That's not what I want right now."

"What do you want?" he asks.

She tightens her arms around him. "You."

He smiles. "I think I can accommodate you there."

She smirks, sliding her hands down to cup his ass. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He's startled when she literally picks him up off his feet and carries him the short distance down the hallway to his bedroom – and he decides he's never been gladder that his home office is on the same floor as his bedroom.

"I didn't know you were strong enough to carry me," he says when she sets him down on his feet by his bed.

She smirks again, looking positively wicked, he thinks. "I'm full of surprises," she teases.

"Yes you are." He lets her undress him, then strips her out of her tank and tight black pants, noticing the way the evening light coming through his window seems to turn her skin to liquid gold. "You're also gorgeous," he tells her, and her faces flushes.

"You're pretty gorgeous yourself, Phil," she says, and begins stripping off his suit until he's in just his boxers, just as she's only wearing her panties. They discard their underwear, then climb onto the bed, and she straddles his thighs, as she had this morning, while rolling a condom down his throbbing cock.

"Wait," he gasps as she wraps her hand around the base of his dick. She raises her eyebrows, and he clasps her hips. "I want to eat you out first." 

She grins. "I like your thinking, Phil." She shuffles up the bed on her knees, and he groans as he realises she's planning to sit on his face – he hasn't had a woman do that since he was in college. 

After he's driven her to two climaxes, she lifts herself up, then sprawls beside him on the bed. "Fuck, Phil," she mutters. "You've got a wicked mouth."

He smirks, then leans down to kiss her, wondering if she'll mind kissing him with her juices smearing his mouth. She doesn't, and the next moment she's tugging his body over hers, and he moans into her mouth as she guides his cock into her slick heat.

They finally emerge from his bedroom a couple of hours later, sated, happy, and hungry. She goes to talk to Joey and Elena to tell them about the Watchdogs group while he begins pulling things together for dinner. He'd suggested ordering in, but Daisy had vetoed the idea for tonight, explaining that she'd feel happier keeping the number of strangers entering his property to a minimum. Considering the events of the day, he'd acquiesced.

As he pours home-made soup into a pan and turns on the burner he can't help thinking that while the Watchdogs are a bunch of vile, spineless cowards, he owes 'Spike' thanks for being the cause of him and Daisy becoming lovers – because he doubts he'd have done so in other circumstances given his self-imposed rule of not fucking his staff.

As he slices bread to go with the soup he thinks of Daisy's suggestion that they invite Antoine over and see if he'd be interested in a threesome, and he feels a thrill of anticipation at the idea: he can only hope the younger man accepts.

When Daisy comes back in he can't help kissing her eagerly, and she laughs, clearly delighted. "Someone's feeling frisky again," she teases.

"I was thinking about Trip," he admits, and she smirks.

"We should invite him to come over tomorrow," she suggests.

"Yes," he agrees quickly.

"For now, though, let's eat. I'm ravenous."

He chuckles, and asks her to lay the table while he finishes heating the soup, and he wonders what her mother would say if he asked Daisy to marry him.


End file.
